


Sterek 30 Day OTP Challenge

by mandylynn4



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Adorable Derek, BAMF Stiles, Birthday Sex, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Minor Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Protective Derek, Scenting, Sharing Clothes, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Switching, The Hale Fire, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-07 03:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 16,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12832041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandylynn4/pseuds/mandylynn4
Summary: Each chapter is a prompt fill for the 30 day OTP Challenge posted in Shipping, Inc on FB.  Chapter title reflects prompt.  Ratings will fluctuate as chapters are completed.This is my first Sterek-writing rodeo, so there's probably cliches and crap along the way.  Unbetaed.  Tagged underage because Stiles is in high school for parts of this...Here were the rules:"Rules"1. You can find all the prompts with #30daysotpchallenge2. You can fill the prompt with any kind of content (writing, drawings, edits...), but it has to be made by you. It doesn't have to be perfect or finished, it can be anything from a headcanon or a scenario to full-blown fanart. All the usual rules about posting still apply.3. Remember that the only limit is your imagination! You can interpret the prompt as freely as you wish.4. Try and stick with just one pairing because that's where the challenge lies. But if you can't choose just one, you can have multiple. Or you can do all the prompts for more than one OTP.5. Tell us the pairing and fandom in question at the beginning of your post.6. You can fill as many of the challenges as you wish. You can also fill them at your own pace.





	1. Holding Hands

"Stiles? Stiles!"

He can hear someone yelling his name, but God knows he can't see anything right now. Everything is blurry and foggy - like his face is wrapped in light muslin. That thought alone reminds him of the Nogitsune and Stiles can feel his heart pick up speed. He opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a high, breathy whine.

"Stiles, can you hear me? You're safe. You're just having a panic attack. Stiles!!!"

Stiles tries to swim through the fog and the fear to the voice - he knows it seems familiar, but he can't place it other than male.... He's starting to remember where he was: running from the monster, legs pumping, taking him towards the closest place he could recall. The safest place to hide. His body is heavy, but he flails out one arm in the voice's direction. It's caught by strong, warm hands and he's pulled tight against a matching body. 

The scent of leather and pine needles washes over him. He turns his face towards the smell. His heart slows some and his ears and eyes begin to clear. Within minutes, he feels his control coming back and he stares down at his hand, wrapped tightly by another. He remembers now. He's at the loft....and he's holding hands with Derek? 

"Uh," he starts, his voice sounding far away still. 

"You okay now?" 

Derek's voice rumbles deep behind the wall of black t-shirt and muscle under Stiles's cheek. Stiles jerks back a second, looking up, startled.

"Uh...yeah. Sorry, big guy. Not sure what happened there."

He pushes away from Derek, who looks worried. He gets a step between them, but their hands are still linked. He cocks an eyebrow at the werewolf. 

"Um, dude?"

Derek's own brows furrow, but he lets go of Stiles's hand. "Sorry. Lydia told me about the last time you panicked and, uh....well...."

Stiles blushes, both with the memory of how Lydia brought him out of it and the thought of Derek trying that tactic himself. "Oh. Right. Uh....yeah." A noise behind them knocks his heart rate back up, sending the fog back in momentarily. He involuntarily reaches out his hand and grasps Derek's. 

Derek squeezes his hand tightly, one glance behind the teenager to assure safety, then sighs. "Want to stay for a while?" 

Stiles doesn't try to take his hand back this time. "Yeah."


	2. Cuddling

Sometimes after taking care of monsters and demons, Derek finds Stiles on his couch. It's not planned, he's sure, but it's a little unnerving to come out from the bathroom, fresh from a shower, and see the teenager sprawled on his sofa like a sloth. He usually stays for an hour or so, not saying much - strange for Stiles - but just hanging around. Derek thinks maybe it's like some sort of decompression thing. 

After half a dozen instances, though, Derek finds himself shoving lanky legs over and plopping down beside Stiles. 

"Hey, Sourwolf," the boy says, looking up at him through thick lashes. "Have you seen this video?" He thrusts his cell phone in Derek's direction.

"Can't say that I have," Derek says, tapping the play button. 

The video is short - a prank involving a fog horn - but honestly amusing. Derek's lips twitch. His chest feels lighter and the headache that had started forming dulls. 

"Was that a smile?"

"Shut up."

Stiles rearranges himself so he's closer, shoulders brushing so they can both see the tiny screen. "If you liked that one, wait til you see this one."

It becomes routine then - Stiles staying after a fight - to watch silly videos and, dare Derek admit it? He has to call it as it is, though. Seeking comfort, sharing space, cuddling...... And if Scott comes in a few weeks later, screeching when he finds Stiles laid out on Derek's chest, he really can't deny it. 

He doesn't think he'd change it either. 

Cuddling with Stiles. Who'd've thought?


	3. First Date

"...and then, when the car blew up? Totally awesome movie, dude. That was amazing, right?"

Derek nods, taking another sip from his water glass. "Right." He smiles weakly across the table at Stiles, who's slowly and sinfully devouring dessert. Stiles shovels another forkful of chocolate cake into his mouth, groaning in appreciation. He licks the frosting from his lips and closes his eyes blissfully. Derek shifts in his seat and tries not to stare. 

"Dude, you should totally try some of this cake. It's perfection. Seriously, kudos to the chef!" Stiles pushes the plate closer to Derek. "Take a bite."

Derek bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head. "No...I'll pass." 

Stiles takes another bite of cake, then scrunches his nose. "What, do you think I have cooties or something?"

Derek gives him a pointed look. "No." He clears his throat. "And stop calling me dude."

"But I always call you dude. It's like a thing."

Derek motions at the waitress for the check. "Yeah, but maybe you could stop doing that for tonight?"

"Why?"

The older man sighs. "No reason." He takes the check, passes it back with his credit card, and smiles painfully at the waitress. "I guess there's no reason today should be any different."

Stiles abruptly stops chewing. "Huh?" He straightens up in his chair, looking around at his surroundings. Nice restaurant...good food....waitresses wearing black ties and slacks....mostly couples??? "Is this like the anniversary of something that I'm not aware of?"

"It could be." Derek sighs. "Do you want to take the rest of that cake home with you? I mean, since you're enjoying it so much."

"Well...I..."

Derek stands, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm just gonna...."

"Dude. You want to take the cake home? I mean you paid for it-" Stiles swallows around the mouthful of chocolate, eyes widening. "You paid for the movie, too. And the popcorn. And soda. And you got me Goobers because I said I liked them. You picked me up at my house. You're wearing the shirt I told you looked good on you last week. You shook my dad's hand." He gapes at Derek like a fish. "You want me to stop calling you dude because...is this a date?"

Derek looks around quickly, tension apparent in his shoulders. "Well, I thought...."

Stiles coughs violently, scrambling to grab his water glass and gulping a few mouthfuls. "Shit! SHIT! This is a date?"

Other couples around them look over; Derek smiles tersely. "Stiles, people are trying to eat..."

"Is. This. A. Date?"

Stiles is surprised to see a blush form over Derek's cheeks. "What did you think it was?" the werewolf asks.

"I just thought maybe you finally discovered fun." 

Derek laughs - a genuine laugh from his belly - and Stiles can't help but join him. "So....maybe I should have asked you outright then? Or maybe not at all?"

"Oh, no, Sourwolf. You're not getting out of this that easily." Stiles stands up and steps in close. "You want to date me? I'm gonna date you so hard."


	4. Kissing

Derek's nervous. He's beyond nervous, actually. They made it through "the date" and things went well, even if Stiles was oblivious through most of it. Now, though, they're back at Stiles's house, sitting in the Camaro in the dark and the silence is freaking him out. Hell, he's so nervous that his fingers and teeth are feeling the burn of claws and fangs threatening to come out.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. Why?"

"The steering wheel is about to shake off the dash, there, buddy."

Derek shoves his hands into his lap, letting out a high pitched noise. "I'm fine."

"Derek?"

"Huh?"

"Dude...."

"Don't call me dude."

"Take a breath, man. Are you freaking out?" Stiles reaches over and puts his hand on top of Derek's lightly. "About what? I mean, I don't bite....at least, I don't think I do. I haven't really had a chance to fi-"

"I'm fine."

"The steering wheel and the growly voice makes me think differently."

"Well, your powers of deduction aren't very strong tonight."

"How the hell was I supposed to know this was a date?" Stiles throws his hands in the air. "You never acted interested at all, Mr. Lack-of-Emotions Man."

"I'm not....good at these things."

"Obviously." Stiles huffs a breath. "So the date's over now, so what are you freaking out about now?"

"The date is over."

"You don't want it to be over?"

Derek looks at Stiles for the first time since the retaurant. His eyebrows quirk sarcastically. "Well, I thought it was customary, if the date was going well, I mean..."

Stiles's jaw drops. "Oh? Oh. Ohhhhh." He blushes almost as red as Derek. "So...kissing?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, if you want to. I don't want to-"

Stiles pushes himself across the console and presses his lips to Derek's, soft and chaste. Derek makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat. His body tenses and, when Stiles looks, he sees that Derek hasn't shut his eyes. He pulls away.

"Um...was that not...I mean, I know I don't have the experience...uh...shit."

Derek twitches slightly, then shakes his head. "It's good," he whispers. He pulls Stiles in, one hand cupped around the back of Stiles's head, and kisses him again. This time, his lips are loose and pliant, encouraging Stiles to kiss back.

Stiles shifts forward, his own hands clutching at the gray Henley Derek's wearing, and throws himself into the kiss. He shudders as Derek's tongue sneaks out to taste. He smiles when Derek gasps into his mouth as he reciprocates with his own tongue.

A sharp rap on the Camaro's window has them separating, mouths swollen and wet, breath coming in pants. The sheriff is pointedly not looking into the window, but Derek notices he's got his full uniform on, complete with gun. His voice is muffled by the rolled up window as he speaks.

"It's almost curfew, Stiles."

Stiles jerks backwards in his seat, scrambling to open the door. "But I don't have a curfew..."

"You do now." The sheriff glances at Derek. "I'm letting this happen, but there's going to be rules. Got it?"

Derek nods his head so fast and so hard, Stiles fears for his neck. The Camaro roars to life. 

"Good night, Derek," Stiles says before shutting the door. When the car has driven away, Stiles turns to his dad, arms crossed. "Really?"

"I take it your date went well?"

"I didn't even know it was a date until like half an hour ago!"

John shakes his head and laughs. "Looks like you were on board after that, though."

Stiles pouts. "Yeah, until somebody decided to step in during the good part."

"Just doing my job, son."


	5. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

The pack has long since left, as did Stiles - although, to be honest, it was long after the pack left that Stiles finally extracted himself from Derek's lap (and lips) to go home. He has a shiny new curfew to go along with their relationship. Sheriff Stilinski is a stickler for it, too. Derek putters around the kitchen, cleaning up the leftover popcorn bowls and plastic cups from the teenagers. For some reason, though, he still smells Stiles. The scent's not on him - well, that's not entirely true - but it's fairly strong. He closes his eyes and lets his wolf lead him by the nose to the scent. He stops in front of the couch and frowns. Nothing out of the ordinary, really, but Stiles didn't even sit on that couch tonight. He'd occupied a spot near Derek's overstuffed armchair, curled up around Derek's legs like a python. Derek sniffs again. 

He kneels down and takes a long whiff. Past the mingling scents of Isaac and Erica, he finds Stiles's. In fact, when he shoves his hand down the side of the cushions, he discovers the culprit - Stiles's hoodie. 

He turns it over and over in his hands, as if it will tell him why the boy would leave it behind. Guilty glance toward the door and then his face is buried in the shirt, taking greedy gulps of honey, cinnamon, and autumn leaves. It's not like him to be so thoroughly obsessed with the smell of someone, but this? This is like heaven. The wolf inside preens with the acquisition of the shirt. A quick flick of the tag lets Derek know what he's already started to discover about Stiles as of late: he's bulking up in the shoulders and chest. He smiles when he thinks of running his hands over the boy's firmer body. He slips it over his own shoulders. It's a bit tight on him, but nowhere near as small as the orange and blue monstrosity from a couple years ago...

He thinks about texting Stiles to tell him he left his shirt at the loft, but then decides to go to bed with it instead. He leaves it on, hood tilted down over his eyes, scent washing over him.

~*~

Three days later, Stiles barges into the loft, out of breath. "You!" he yells, accusatory finger pointed at Derek. 

Derek looks up sheepishly from under the red hood, pulling his hands out from the front pocket. "Me?"

"I've been looking for that shirt everywhere! And you've had it this whole time?"

"Sorry, I'll just-" Derek starts shrugging it off, his own t-shirt riding up as the hoodie comes over his head.

Stiles makes a gargled sound. "No...uh....you can wear it whenever you want," he finally says when Derek's head is back in view. Dark hair is in disarray on top of the werewolf's head - Stiles's fingers itch to touch. "Just...uh...let me know when you want to borrow it, okay?"

Derek flushes red as he passes it back. "Trading it back and forth would be....um....okay."

"Okay?"

"It's starting to lose its scent."

It's Stiles's turn to blush. "Oh....here....let me...." He strides forward, tugging the hoodie over his head as he goes, then moves his head to the side - just enough. "Go ahead," he whispers. His heart is pounding and his scent is fresh and strong and spicy with arousal. 

Derek puts his nose behind the boy's ear and groans with the first heady smell. "You are going to be the death of me."

Stiles pants, "Yeah, well, you're going to have to get me a hoodie for when you steal this one. It's fucking November, Derek."

Derek's wolf rumbles in satisfaction. "Don't worry. I'll keep you plenty warm."


	6. Shopping

"Dude."

Derek shoots Stiles daggers. 

"Sorry. I meant, Derek, Your Excellency..."

"Really?"

"It's a force of habit with the dude thing, really! It's not a conscious effort. I call everyone dude. I've been known to call _inanimate_ objects dude."

"I'm not inanimate."

Stiles wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Don't I know it."

An older woman, also looking at the display of kitchen utensils, pots, and pans, huffs a breath of distaste at them and leaves the aisle. Derek's ears go red.

"Rude," Stiles says, plucking a spatula from a hook. "I mean, I can't very well go around in public calling you-"

Derek claps a hand over Stiles's mouth, cheeks flaming the same shade as his ears. "Don't you dare," he hisses. "Pick a damn gift for Isaac and let's go."

Stiles licks at Derek's palm, laughing as the werewolf takes his hand away and wipes it forlornly on his jeans. "Fine. Grumpy Wolf." He replaces the spatula and picks up an odd, silicone brush. "You think he'll like this?" He waves it around a few times, watching the tiny rubber strings flounce back and forth. "I mean, as far as cooking goes, I don't know that anyone _needs_ this. But maybe Scott would enjoy this in the bed-"

Derek spins on his heel, nearly sprinting from the aisle. Stiles waves the brush again, laughter in his voice. 

"Oh, come on, dude! I know you're not a prude!"

"Is that so?"

Stiles whips around, seeing his father with a cart full of groceries behind him. "Ahhh! Warn a guy next time you sneak up on him like that!"

"It's Walmart, Stiles, and my cart has possibly the squeakiest wheel known to man. There was no sneaking."

"Yeah, well, your stealth game is strong. Beacon Hills should be proud of its Sheriff."

"Where's Derek?"

Stiles titters nervously, hanging the brush back on the hook, and picks up a package of long handled kitchen knives. "We were just grabbing a Christmas gift for Isaac. He's really into cooking right now and acting like pack mom now that he and Scott are..."

"I gathered that from your previous statement about the brush."

Stiles swallows and feels his face heat up. "Again, you are a stealthy one. I'm just gonna go-"

"Does there need to be a conversation about Derek's lack of prudishness?" 

"Nope!" Stiles streaks down the aisle, calling over his shoulder before he rounds the corner, "see you at curfew!"


	7. An Accident

"Uh-oh..."

"What did you say?"

"Uhhhh...."

"Stiles!"

"It was an accident, I swear!"

Derek sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What happened?"

"Well, you see, Big Guy...."

"No."

"Really? We're going to talk about pet names now?"

"Just tell me what happened. Leave off the extras."

"Seriously, did you even think this through _before_ asking me out?"

"I didn't ask you out."

"Oh my God, fine! Before you took me on a date, then? I mean, you had to know what you were getting into....and I'm not talking my pants because Lord knows _that's_ not getting very far..."

"Stiles! Focus!"

Stiles sighs this time, rolling his eyes. "You think you're the first person to try yelling focus at me? My teachers, my dad, Scott, Melissa....hell, Im pretty sure even _Danny's_ done it before - and he's super chill. That totally doesn't work, by the way. Wait, where are you going?"

"Either you tell me what happened, or I'll find something else to do."

"Yeah, real busy, Mr. Wolf. Gotta go blow down some houses or eat someone's grandma?"

"And I'm leaving."

Stiles grabs Derek's jacket by the arm and tugs. "Okay, okay. Wait. I'm sorry."

Derek lifts an eyebrow. "Just tell me."

Stiles cheeks turn a brilliant shade of red. "You'll laugh when this has blown over, okay?"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I...."

"Just spit it out."

"Funny you should say that..."

"Stiles, I'm on my very last nerve." 

The boy feels a shudder go through Derek's body as the wolf tries desperately to stay in control. He clears his throat. 

"I might have accidentally sent the last sext meant for you....to my dad."

"How the hell-?"

"Your name is right under Dad on my phone and I clicked it instead! You know how I get when I type on this damn thing," Stiles says, waving his phone in the air. "It won't be a big deal. I can just explain..."

"What did the text say?"

Stiles ducks his head. "Well, something to the effect of-"

The phone between them begins ringing, the COPS theme blaring in the now silent loft. Derek shoots Stiles a panicked glance before backing away a few steps. He mouths at Stiles, "I'm not here!" Stiles rolls his eyes and answers the phone.

"Hey, Daddy-O, what's shakin'? Uh....what? No. No? That's funny...I didn't send you any-ohhhhh. _That_ text. Well, to be fair it wasn't meant for you. Uh....well, I know you know the alphabet, but as far as you know, he's listed as Boyfriend or Wolfman or Lover or-okay, geez! Yes, I know....okay. No. Yes. I'll see you at curfew."

Derek slumps down in the overstuffed armchair, face in his hands. "That was-"

"I think it went well." Stiles pushes Derek back so he can perch on his lap. He loops one arm around the wolf's neck and grins.

"Dad says hi."

Derek groans.

"He also says that if he ever sees those words from my fingers again, he will pay you a visit. But don't worry," he says, running a hand down Derek's face to calm him. "It won't happen again." 

"No, it won't. No more sexting."

"Funny. Not what I meant. I meant, I'm changing your name in my phone to-"

Derek growls. He should have really seen this coming.


	8. Needing Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's not as humorous....a little darker my friends. I apologize.

Derek startles awake, disoriented and confused in the dim light of the Stilinski house. Wind and rain from outside the windows dull the sounds of Stiles's breathing, but his heartbeat is strong - and fast. Musty scent: stale popcorn, the sheriff's cologne, and a bit of long-gone whiskey. Must be in the living room. Derek's starting to recall falling asleep on the couch while Stiles watched a movie. He smells sweat and fear - both Stiles's - from somewhere in the room, but he's not adjusted to his surroundings enough yet to know quite where to find him. No blood, though - that's promising. "Stiles?"

A sharp whimper and a scuffle in the corner. Derek's wolf perks its ears, tuning in to the sounds. He slips off the sofa and down to a crouch, gliding effortlessly along the carpet to where the boy is huddled and reaching out to touch Stiles lightly on the arm. The boy jerks away. Even with all his werewolf abilities, Derek can't seem to make out more than a darker shape in the corner of the already black space. He shudders lightly. 

"Stiles? Can you hear me?"

"Go 'way." 

The voice is timid and tiny - something Derek's not heard possibly ever. His senses sharpen as his wolf comes closer to the forefront. "It's Derek," he whispers. "Are you okay?"

"I can't see them anymore. They're not there."

Derek can smell tears now. "What's not there?" 

"My fingers. I can't count my fingers, Derek," Stiles wails, thrusting his hands out in front of him. 

Derek takes ahold of the thin wrists, cool and clammy from anxiety, and holds them up to his face, so he can better assess what's wrong. He peers into the darkness and chokes. Stiles's wrists have hands, but there aren't any fingers at all. Derek reels backwards, crab-walking awkwardly into the dark living room, getting farther away from Stiles as his mind swirls and his breath pants out in panic. "How....what....Stiles?"

"How am I supposed to wake up if I can't count my fingers, Derek?" Stiles shrieks, lightning illuminating the room around them. He's white as a sheet and his head is cocked at a strange angle - eyes glowing blue and then red. His voice deepens into a growl as he starts screaming, "Derek! Derek!"

"Derek!"

Derek's cry of surprise as he falls off the sofa is hoarse and terrified. Stiles blinks down at him, worried. 

"Hey, Big Guy. You okay?" He notices that Derek is shaking and gets down beside him, warm hand stroking softly across scruffy beard. "You're not hurt are you?"

Derek looks up at Stiles, then at the living room around them. Low lights glow golden from the tiny end tables on either end of the couch. The television's music repeats over and over, indicating the home screen of the DVD. The popcorn bowl is empty, but sitting on the coffee table beside him. And Stiles is reaching out his hand to him again, brow creased with worry. Derek seizes Stiles's wrist suddenly, causing the boy to gasp, and stares at the hand there for a moment.

"You have five fingers," he says simply.

"Yeah, I do." Stiles smiles at him softly. "You're not dreaming, okay?" He gathers Derek against his chest, stroking his hand down the wolf's back soothingly. "I've got five fingers on each hand and so do you."

"How do you know," Derek asks, voice muffled against Stiles.

"I know because I'm smart. And because I trust that this isn't a dream on my end, either."

"Why?"

"Because my dreams usually end up with you using those fingers of yours to-"

Derek growls, pushing back from Stiles just enough to look down at his own hands. "Okay, okay. I get it. I was dreaming and now I'm not. Just don't...."

"Don't tell you about my dreams of you?"

"Not when your dad's upstairs, no."

"Party pooper." Stiles teases, but tugs Derek back up onto the couch and presses him down into the cushions. He gathers the bigger man into his arms, pressing a light kiss to his temple. "But seriously, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Kate again?"

"God, no. This time, it was you. You were....missing your hands."

Stiles makes a noise of disgust. "You have weird dreams, dude."

Derek wants to complain, wants to point out that he's not a dude....but Stiles is rubbing one hand up and down his arm and restarting the movie with the other. He finds he's too comfortable to care. 

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For telling me about the finger trick."

"Want me to tell you about a different finger-"

"Stiles? Can we just..."

"Okay, okay. Geez. Shhhh....it's time for Buttercup to meet Westley."


	9. Morning/Evening Rituals

Stiles's phone vibrates on his nightstand, rattling and bouncing across the wood until it runs into the lamp. Then, it chitters against the metal base for long seconds before turning silent again. Moments later, the vibrating begins again. 

Stiles groans and thrusts his hand out from beneath his blankets to grab it. "Wha-?"

"It's 7:30."

"It's Saturday."

"No, it's Friday."

Stiles runs his tongue across his teeth, groggy. "Seriously?" He squeezes his eyes shut harder and tries to think....was it Friday? The days were almost blurring together anymore. He drifts a bit, thinking about lacrosse practice and math tests, relaxing deep into his covers once again.

"Stiles!"

The boy sits straight up out of bed, arms flailing and letting out a squawk of panic. After a moment to slow his heart, he picks up the phone and glares at it. "What the _hell_ , Derek? Do you _want_ me to die at an early age from a heart attack? Because someday that's going to happen, you know." He swears he hears Derek snicker.

"No, but you might die when your dad gets the phone call to say that you're not at school again. Even the sheriff's got to follow truancy policies."

"Yeah, well, most of those times I was helping the pack. He can't get upset about that." Stiles looks at his clock. "Shit. It's late."

"I know. Get up and get dressed already."

"Alright, Rudewolf." Stiles stands up, stretching and scratching at his bare chest. He walks over and grabs a towel off the hook on his door, sliding his pajama pants down and off. He yawns as he puts the towel around his waist. "I never really pegged you for a morning person, you know?"

Derek hums, then his breath catches. Stiles freezes.

"Are you-"

"Nothing."

"If I come to the window and you're being a Creeperwolf on the roof again, I swear..."

"I'm not on your roof, Stiles."

Stiles crosses to the window and peers out. He catches a glimpse of leather jacket and 3-day-stubble heading around the side of the house. "You Peeping Tom, you," he teases, smirking. "You know, one of these days, dad's gonna find you lurking out there and he's not going to be too pleased."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Stiles." Derek sounds chagrined, though. It makes Stiles grin more.

"See anything you like?"

"You're going to be late to class. I'm hanging up now."

"Excuses, excuses!" The phone disconnects, so Stiles opens his window and calls out, "One of these days, Derek Hale, we're going to be in the same room when I'm nak-"

"Not if I have it my way, you're not," John says from down below. "And we have neighbors. Morning, Derek."

"Sheriff..."

Derek's voice sounds strangled and high. Stiles slams the window shut. He needs to get ready for school....and Derek really needs to learn to run a little faster.


	10. Pet Names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might finally be rated maturish....

Stiles rocks down on Derek's lap, shaking with pleasure when Derek's hips rise up to meet his. 

It had started innocently enough - going over the bestiary after a pack meeting, reading about the latest monster of the moment - that quickly evolved into Derek picking him up and arranging him on his lap on the couch, all teeth and growls. Stiles really can't honestly remember what insight he had imparted that sparked the wolf's interest, but he's not complaining now. Especially since the teeth Derek had once threatened to rip his throat out with are now grazing over the sensitive spot behind his ear. 

Stiles has no shame when it comes to this. He doesn't even try to pretend to be embarrassed. He figures that Derek has chosen _him_ , of all the people in Beacon Hills, and he can't waste his time worrying about the hows and the whys when he's enjoying the burn and the thrill of just _being_ Derek's. A warm hand makes its way up the back of his shirt and he can't repress the shudder that goes through him. This is pretty heavy petting as far as they're concerned - Derek's still skittish about the sheriff and Stiles isn't quite 18 yet. They've both decided not to fully consummate anything until he's officially legal. And Stiles is fine with that. Really. Truly. Yep. Except sometimes he ends up spending entire evenings when the pack's running off steam or practicing combat furiously taking care of himself as he thinks about what's to come. He's not completely oblivious. Derek's well proportioned. They've rutted against each other and made out and felt through layers (and layers) of clothing. Occasionally they'll become shirtless - but things are tame for the most part, sexting not included. But, he agrees it's best not to push his dad's hand any more than it's already being pushed. It's just so hard....

"Fuck," Derek pants out, "take....can I take this off?"

Stiles nods, helping the wolf ease his shirt over his head. He hisses when the cool air causes his nipples to pebble up. "Der-"

Derek goes back to mouthing at his neck, both hands now roaming freely along his skin. "Yeah?"

Stiles strains against Derek's body, writhing and moaning as he gets close enough that his chest is grazing Derek's. He frowns at the cotton shirt between them. "Yours...yours, too."

They move together to get the shirt off Derek and Stiles can't help but glance down to appreciate what he wishes he could look at more often... He strokes a finger down the center of Derek's chest, dipping into his belly button before he's being heaved up into the air and whisked across the loft to the staircase. "That should not be as hot as it is," he says, holding on for dear life. He knows that Derek won't drop him, but he hasn't been picked up like this since....he can't ever remember being picked up like this actually.

Derek huffs hot breath in the crook of Stiles's neck, chuckling. He presses him down onto the bed and moves over him, smirking darkly. "Yeah?"

"You know, you're not very articulate when you're-oh, God!"

Derek rolls his body down again and again, moving their hips together slowly and torturously. "Am I usually chatty?" He takes a hardened nipple into his mouth and bites down gently. Stiles gasps.

"You can't choose _now_ to be sarcastic and witty, Sexywolf. That's not fair." Stiles can feel the smile against his skin. He taps at Derek's head. "Get up here and kiss me."

"You're bossy when you're turned on," Derek grins, but he complies, taking Stiles's mouth as if he owns it.

"I don't think you mind," Stiles breathes out when they pause for air. His pants are too tight, his skin too hot, his lips feel bruised and swollen... He reaches down to flick the button of his jeans, just to alleviate some of the pressure, but Derek's hand is there faster. He pins Stiles's wrist to the mattress, looking serious momentarily.

"That's...uh....you think..."

"Der, come on! It's not like we're going to full out fuck. I just...I need..." Stiles strains against the wolf, who's pulled back some, eyes flashing red. He looks up unabashedly through his lashes. "Please?"

With a roar, Derek tugs open Stiles's pants and shoves them halfway down his legs. He whimpers when he sees the red, weeping tip of the boy's cock peeking out from the slit in his boxers. He covers Stiles's body completely and begins rolling more forcibly against him. He still has one hand pinned down and Stiles can't help but find that even hotter than he thought it would be. He's starting to think he's got a bit of a manhandling kink....

"You smell.... _fuck_ , Stiles..."

"Yeah, come on, Der."

Derek's hips start jerking more erratically. Stiles takes the patch of skin nearest in his mouth and starts sucking - hard. The tingling hot feeling is starting at the base of his spine and he puts his teeth into it as it builds. His eyes roll back in his head.

"Yeah, that's it, baby..."

And that's it, folks. Show over. Stiles's mind goes blank with pleasure and he's pretty sure he just lost some brain cells with that orgasm. Above him, he vaguely takes in that Derek is also lost in the fog of afterglow. He's a little miffed at himself for missing the glory that is Derek Hale in full orgasm face, but he can't really be complaining when he feels this magnificent. He reaches up after a moment and touches the deep red bruise he sucked onto Derek's collarbone. Derek hisses, then moans as his hips stutter. The bruise is already fading, but the fact that it's there....

"That was fun," he says lightly. He takes inventory of the mess between them and the growing patch of wetness at the front of Derek's jeans. "A little sticky, but fun. And good luck to you getting those pants off."

Instead of rolling off of him, Derek cuddles up close and nuzzles his neck with the tip of his nose. "Yeah."

"Still the chatterbox, I see."

Derek shushes him with a kiss. "Everything good?"

Stiles swallows, hand rubbing softly down Derek's back. "You called me baby."

Eyebrows furrow in worry. "Is that a bad thing? I can stop-"

"Don't you dare."


	11. Hanging Out With Friends

"Chips?"

"Yep."

"Dip?"

"Isaac's on it."

"Soda?"

"Lydia's bringing the beverages."

Derek cocks an eyebrow. "Really?"

"That happened _once_ , Derek. She's not mixing up some crazy family recipe and this isn't a kegger. She's bringing two liters of soda from the store unopened. Okay?"

Derek humphs, but turns back to the kitchen cabinets. "Pizza?"

"Roll form, in the freezer. Oooo...we should turn on the oven to preheat." Stiles pushes past Derek and presses the buttons efficiently. Then, he opens the door a crack and peeks inside. "Good. No pizza boxes. You really gotta remember not to put those in there. I nearly burned down the loft last time. And leftovers not kept in the fridge can lead to food poisoning for humans, you know." Behind him, Derek smiles. 

"Noted." Derek crowds Stiles up against the stove, rumbling in pleasure. "I like it when you cook." He breathes in under Stiles's ear. Stiles shivers.

"It's not cooking. It's pizza rolls."

"Hmmmm..." Derek curls his body further around Stiles's. "Okay, well, i like how you are in my kitchen then. I like it when you're comfortable here. It feels..."

"Like I'm your pizza-roll-cooking slave boy?"

"Like home."

"Oh." Stiles closes his eyes to try and keep the prickling of tears at bay. "Yeah, well, I like hanging out here like this. It's nice to be wanted."

"Oh, you're wanted, baby." Derek is mouthing at his neck now, hips starting to rub lightly along Stiles's backside. 

Stiles lets out a strangled moan. "You're not playing fair here, Sexywolf."

"'M not playing at _all_..."

"But we've got everybody-"

There's a sharp rap on the loft door and Stiles swears he hears Derek growl subvocally. He squeaks, willing down the half-hardness in his pants, and he gently extracts himself from Derek's embrace. 

"Coming!"

Derek busies himself in the fridge, opening both doors and sliding his body between them. He mutters something that Stiles can't quite catch, but then Stiles is opening the loft door and greeting Scott and Allison.

Scott immediately wrinkles his face up, like his favorite ice cream just fell off the cone and got stepped on. "Oh my God, Stiles, really?"

Stiles blinks and glances around the room in confusion. "Uh?"

Allison strokes a hand down Scott's arm. "What's the matter?"

Erica steps in, followed by Boyd, and grins happily over the top of the box of cookies she's holding. "Damn, Stiles! It smells like a brothel in here. Did we interrupt something?"

Derek growls from the fridge, but doesn't emerge. Stiles laughs, uncomfortable. "Uh...no? Nothing. Nothing interrupted. Right Derek?"

Isaac comes in with Lydia, carrying a Tupperware container and three two-liter bottles of soda. Lydia directs him to place everything on the counter, then saunters over to the couch. Isaac gets to the kitchen and freezes. "What's that _smell_? Is that the pizza rolls?" He makes a face.

Stiles titters. "No. Uh...they're still in the freezer yet, right, Derek?" When the wolf doesn't answer, he coughs and ushers his friends to sit down. "We'll just get the movie started and I'll pop them in the oven..."

Erica snickers, but goes to operate the DVD player anyway. "Something will get popped..."

"Crude!" Stiles hustled back into the kitchen, digs around for a cookie sheet, and puts it down on the counter next to the fridge. Then, he pulls the freezer door back a smidge, so he can see Derek better. "You alright in here?"

"Fine."

"You gonna give me the pizza rolls so I can get them in the oven?"

Derek hesistates, then rummages around to find the bags of food. He gives them to Stiles. "This was _your_ idea," he points out.

"Yeah, well, your pack needs some down time, so I'm trying to help. Plus it's nice to hang out sometimes."

Derek pouts, but closes both refrigerator doors. Stiles presses a kiss to his cheek, then turns back to the food. "You know the faster we start this shindig, then faster they leave, right? And then, if there's still time before curfew, we can get back to what we were-"

Derek takes a bag of pizza rolls and slices them open with a claw, scattering them on the cookie sheet and popping them in the oven in record speed. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go hang out."


	12. Trying Something New

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Would I put you in danger?"

"Well...."

Derek frowns, crossing his arms in front of him. 

"Okay, okay! You probably wouldn't intentionally have me do something that would put me in danger." Stiles leans forward and kisses Derek's pout. "Unless we're trying to lure something somewhere. Then, it's been known for me to become bait..."

Derek growls and turns away. "Forget it."

"No, wait. I'm sorry. It's just....that thing is intimidating and I'm not gonna lie, I'm nervous."

Derek sighs and slides up behind Stiles, putting his arms around his body protectively. "I'm not going to leave you."

"Not going to throw me to the wolves?" Stiles wiggles his eyebrows and grins. "See what I did there?"

"Yes." 

"Could it kill you to take a joke?"

"I would, if you told funny jokes."

"I'm deeply hurt! My jokes are hilarious!"

"Just concentrate, okay?" Derek takes Stiles's hand and moves it forward. He brushes the long fingertips across the warm side of horse, delighting secretly in the way the animal stays calm and relaxed around him. Sometimes, he's not that lucky. Sometimes, they spook. But today, maybe because of Stiles, his wolf is content, so the horse is as well. Stiles smiles lightly.

"So, you've ridden before?

"A few times. This is Maisey."

"She has an old lady name."

"Well, she's four."

"You couldn't name her something like Lightning or Butterscotch or Speed Racer?"

"Not my horse. And the owner is only 10. She named her when she was 6 and reading picture books."

"And you're sure she's safe?"

"Yes, Stiles."

"Okay," Stiles says, turning in Derek's arms. He looks up into green-blue eyes seriously. "I trust you."


	13. In a Battle - Side By Side

"Where's Stiles?" 

Scott puts his hand flat on Derek's chest and presses, flashing his eyes briefly. "He's safe, Derek. John's got him safe in the vault." Derek relaxes a little, but looks around anxiously at the shadows that are deepening around them. 

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. We have the birchwood stakes?"

"Isaac's got them." 

"Where's Isaac?"

"With Allison."

Derek breathes through his nose noisily. "And Lydia?"

"Waiting back there," Scott indicates, pointing behind them at the school. "She'll be ready when we herd these things her way."

A roar pierces the night, closer than Derek had hoped. He flinches, then steadies himself, turning toward the sound. "They're here." Beside him, Scott's body ripples. Derek vaguely registers the shift of the younger wolf, but he can't concentrate too much on it since the monsters are rounding the corner at a breakneck speed. He allows the change to happen in him as well. His fangs and claws drop simultaneously. "I've got the left - you get the right."

Flashes of action, pain, blood - Derek's head is more wolf than human when they're in the thick of things, so he can't really remember if he heard his phone ring or not. But, it takes him less than ten seconds to realize that he can smell something sweet and earthy over the carnage. It's a scent he cherishes and to smell it now causes panic of the worst sort. "Stiles?" he growls around his fangs, head whipping around to locate the boy. Scott growls louder, seeming to smell Stiles at the same time as Derek. 

Behind them, they hear police sirens and pounding feet. Lydia is screaming loudly from the school, but Derek can't focus. He needs to find Stiles. 

A particularly large creature steps forward, swiping at him with five-inch talons. Derek hisses in pain. The creature looks down at him as if it's grinning. "Dikowc wbakoe, wolf," it says, language unlike any Derek's heard before. He flinches. 

At that moment, the creature goes down hard, head exploding into fleshy bits and pieces all over Derek and the ground. Derek blinks up in surprise. 

"Got 'im," Stiles says, swinging his bat over his shoulder in ready position again. 

"I told you to stay home!"

"No time now, GrumpyWolf. Watch it-" Stiles swings the bat again, taking down another monster. "You weren't answering your phone. I couldn't just let you guys do this without-"swing, hit, splatter, "-proper information."

Derek watches Stiles swing and destroy creature after creature. "What?"

"Birchwood's for gnarls. You're dealing with gnarkles. Totally different. You need non-ferrous metals to kill these suckers."

John's voice comes from the darkness, yelling for Stiles, but Derek looks and sees the sheriff wielding his own bat. Scott seems to have caught on, as well, sending a monster crashing into the metal handrail near the school. "I..."

"There's a pipe in my Jeep," Stiles says, out of breath. "It's yours." He continues to hack and smack at the creatures, obliterating the numbers almost single-handedly. 

Derek has to tamp down the burning desire he has to grab Stiles and rut against him furiously. Later maybe...

For now? They've got work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I maybe put in a shout out to one of my other fandoms -SPN in there. :) Blink and you'll miss it.


	14. Arguing

"Everybody out."

It's said as an order, not a request. Isaac clutches Scott's hand and takes comfort from Allison's warm touch to the back of his neck. Erica and Boyd don't bat an eyelash - they simply head towards the door of the loft. Lydia scrunches her nose in disdain, but gathers her purse and slides her feet back into her running shoes. Stiles mimics Derek's posture: crossed arms, wide-legged stance, frown. 

"Why?" 

"Not you," Derek responds, eyes daring Stiles to move. "You stay."

They stand, staring each other down until the loft door closes after the pack shuffles out. Stiles's right corner of his mouth twitches, but he otherwise stays still. Derek's eyebrows furrow farther. The seconds tick by. 

"I take it this isn't an 'everybody out for sex purposes'?" It's meant as a joke, but Stiles's voice is flat.

"No."

"Then have at it, Big Guy. What's the what?"

"You can't just do that," Derek finally says, quiet, but stern.

"Do what? Save your ass?"

"It's _dangerous_."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, so is fighting something with ineffectual weapons. I mean, if I hadn't-"

Derek holds up a hand. "No. You don't get to justify this. I told you to stay with your dad. I _told_ you-"

"Yeah, well, you're not _my_ alpha, Derek, and I don't have to listen to what you say."

Derek's on him in seconds, red-eyed and growling. His hands clench at his sides and his body shakes with trying to stay in control. Stiles, for the most part, doesn't even blink. In fact, he juts his chin up stubbornly. 

"You don't scare me anymore, Derek. That stuff stopped working on me back when I had to hold your ass up in the pool for 2 hours. Remember that? I mean, that was a dangerous situation and I helped then. I stepped in when Scott was about to barbeque himself at the Hotel California. I'm the one who carries the mountain ash and the baseball bat and-"

"But how many more times can you escape death? The odds aren't in your favor. You're _human._ "

Stiles's eyes narrow and he shoves Derek backward, causing him to stumble a few steps. "That's what this is about? I'm not a big bad werewolf or banshee or kanima or, God help us, other powerful creature so I can't help? I seemed to hold my own tonight."

"You got lucky. And someday, without the pack, that luck's going to run out. We can't be with you every day. All day long. I can't protect you...."

Stiles's mouth drops open, shutting and opening again like a gaping fish. "You....I.... _luck_? Seriously? And I don't need your protection, okay? I've learned a few things these past couple of years and I don't rely on anyone. In fact, I did just fine when it was just Scott and I before all this werewolf bullshit started. If anything, I protected Scott from stuff." Stiles's is near shaking when he stops speaking, cheks growing rosy with anger. He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns on his heels. "And, by the way, fuck you, too, Derek."

Derek's left in the dim light of the loft, claws digging deep into his palms.


	15. Making Up

"You need to fix this," Scott says, three days later at a pack meeting. 

The armchair is empty without Stiles in front of it, or dangling on one arm, or perched on Derek's lap. Derek frowns. "I'm not wrong, though. Stiles is going to get himself hurt or killed someday."

"So not the point," Erica scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

"You made him feel like he's not needed. That's probably one of the deepest cuts you could make to a Stilinski." Lydia blows an errant hair out of her face and crosses her arms. "Just ask my mom on that one."

"But-"

"We know you don't want him to get hurt," Isaac states from the couch. He looks down sharply when Derek turns his eyes on him, but Allison strokes her fingers over the back of his hand, so he calms and continues. "But to be fair, Stiles doesn't want you to get hurt, either. Telling him he can't help because you're scared is kind of a double standard."

"I heal."

"So do we. You don't worry about us?" Scott asks.

"It's not the same. You're not human."

"I am," Allison breaks in, eyes fiery and strong. "Do you not care if I get hurt?"

"That's not-"

"And what about me? I can most definitely get hurt, especially if for some reason I can't get my voice going," Lydia points out. 

"But we get it," Scott says softly, coming foward on the floor to crouch beside Derek's chair. "It's the same way I get more anxious thinking about Allison and Isaac and mom. I care if others get hurt, but it's different with them, right?"

Derek sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "I just can't get him to understand-"

"Believe me," Scott continues, "he knows how dangerous it is. And he's just as petrified as you are about all of it. He's scared of dying, he's scared of disappointing you, of his father losing him...."

"Don't you miss him?" Erica asks. "I mean, even I miss him right now..."

Derek's wolf whines from within. He squirms uncomfortably in the chair. "What do I do?"

"Tell him you're sorry."

"It's that easy?"

"It's that easy," Isaac smiles. 

"But do it soon," Erica pipes up. "You're grouchy as fuck when you're not getting laid."

"We're not-"

Lydia claps her hands over her ears. "Nope! Nope! Nope! No more. I'm done. Get your wolfy butt over to his house and apologize now."

Derek growls, but gets up, following her directions. He casts a somber glance back at his pack before heading out into the evening air. The group looks more relaxed somehow with the knowledge that he'll fix this. 

~*~

John answers the door, arms crossed and policeman attitude in full force. "Can I help you?"

"I need to talk to Stiles." It comes out gruff and Derek winces at the sound, so he clears his throat and continues, head ducked. "Please, sir?"

"You know you had that boy a wreck for the last few days? Nightmares and movie binges by himself, hell, he cried every night since the fight and he thinks I didn't hear. I should just chase you off this porch right now, Hale."

"And you'd probably be right to, Sheriff," Derek admits, blushing. "I said some things that-"

"I know what you said." John relaxes a bit then, face softening just a bit. "And that's probably why I'm not shutting this door in your face. You don't want him hurt and for that, I understand and appreciate you speaking up. He doesn't always listen, though, does he?" He looks up the staircase towards Stiles's room. "But your heart's in the right place. He'll figure that out."

Derek swallows thickly. "So, can I...?"

John nods and steps back a bit so Derek can come in. "Go on up. He's stubborn - must get that from his mother - but I think you'll be able to smooth this over with him. He cares about you a great deal."

"Thank you, sir."

"Just John, please."

"John."

Derek heads up the stairs, pausing outside Stiles's door and breathing for a few moments before knocking. He's surprised when the door flings open and he's covered from neck to feet with a human body. He smells tears, but he also feels tight arms winding around his chest in a hug of massive proportions. He holds on to the boy and breathes his scent deeply, feeling himself grow calmer with each second. 

"I'm so sorry, Derek," Stiles cries into the wolf's neck. 

"I'm supposed to be the one apologizing to you," Derek huffs, astonished. "I'm sorry I said all of those things-"

Stiles looks up at him. "You're just trying to keep me safe. Just like Scott and dad and the rest of the pack. I get it."

"I'd be a mess if you got hurt," Derek admits. 

"I just - I got mad because you didn't ask me - you demanded me to stay away. I can't. Don't you see that? I can't sit by and watch my friends and my boyfriend-"

"Boyfriend?"

"Uh...yeah? I mean, if you'll have me."

Derek presses a kiss to Stiles's lips, smiling. "I understand, baby," he murmurs. "I'm still sorry, though."

Stiles grins against Derek's lips. "Apology accepted."


	16. Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SEE END FOR NOTES

Stiles stares at the piece of chocolate cake in front of him. It's offensively large and covered with thick, mousse-like frosting and tiny candy pearls. He frowns at it. Then, he frowns across the table at Derek, who's obliviously digging into his peach cobbler a la mode. "Dude," he says, incredulously. "Really?"

"What?" 

"You want me to _eat_ this?"

Derek tilts his head a fraction to the left, swallowing his mouthful of peaches and ice cream. "Yeah?"

Stiles pouts. "This is so weird."

"What is?"

" _This!_ All of this!" Stiles gestures wildly at his surroundings. "The cake and the restaurant and that shirt and," he pitches his voice to an exaggerated whisper, leaning forward so the other customers can't hear him, " _fuck,_ you have ice cream on your top lip!" His eyes dilate and he swallows thickly. "You are not playing fair here, mister."

Derek flushes and licks his lips, glancing around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. "Okay..." He puts down his spoon. "What's weird about any of this? Isn't this what normal people do on dates?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then eat your cake." He glances down at his shirt. "And what's wrong with this shirt? I thought you liked it."

Stiles's mouth parts almost obscenely as he looks at Derek's chest. "Yes, I love that shirt, actually."

"I still don't understand the problem, then."

About that time, Stiles notices a familiar redhead at a table near the bar. "Lydia's here?"

Derek looks back over his shoulder to see, then curses under his breath. "Yep, looks like it." He crunches his shoulders over his plate, scooping up another bite of cobbler. His eyebrows furrow as he tries to make himself look small.

"What...what are you _doing?_ Are you trying to avoid _Lydia?_ "

"No."

"Liar! Even without werewolf special hearing, I can tell that you're lying." Stiles pushes back his chair with a scrape. "I'm gonna go say hi."

"Stiles, wait-"

Stiles starts moving towards Lydia, but stops suddenly when Scott steps in front of him from the table behind them. "Chill," Scott says, hands up placatingly. 

"What the hell is going on here?" Stiles hisses, concerned. "Is there some sort of evil-"

"Stiles."

Derek's voice comes from behind him and he turns, eyes widening as he takes in his boyfriend. Derek's holding a pair of tickets in his hand. Behind him, Isaac and Allison are scrambling to get in place. They are holding a sign which looks to be painstakingly created by hand. It reads, "Prom?" Derek ducks his head in embarrassment, but holds the tickets out to Stiles anyway. 

"Stiles...will you-"

"Holy _shit_."

"Language," John says from beside Scott. "I'd hate to have to take you in for harassment before you get to answer Derek, here."

Stiles gapes at his friends and the other patrons of the restaurant. "You...I...?"

"So?"

"Yes?"

Derek laughs. "You don't sound so sure about that."

"Yeah, well, I'm working out the logistics of _you_ asking _me_ to _my_ senior prom. How'd you get tickets anyway?"

"I helped with that," Scott says. 

"Oh."

"And Allison and I helped make the banner!" Isaac pipes up.

"And Lydia got the restaurant on board," Allison adds.

"Well, you can't very well leave some big romantic gesture completely up to Derek," Lydia scoffed, flipping a curl over her shoulder. "I mean, he remembered the shirt, the restaurant, and the cake from your first date, but.."

"You....remembered all that?"

Derek blushes harder. "Kind of hard to forget that evening."

"Oh my God," Stiles stutters out, moving forward to kiss Derek. "That's....you're so damn cute, it's not natural."

"So, it's a date, then?"

Stiles looks up at Derek, smiling. "Of course, SappyWolf."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sorry if you thought the title meant marriage proposal, but my story canon wouldn't allow that. Stiles still isn't 18 and John would have kittens....yeah. Too early for that in this particular story. I apologize.


	17. Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has adult content between consenting adult males. If you do not wish to read this material, you can skip forward to the next chapter. :)

"Hi," Stiles says, breathless. He looks gorgeous and edible and absolutely sinful standing in the loft's doorway in dark pants and a maroon button-up shirt. Derek delights in the fact that he can smell nothing but pure Stiles - no aftershave, no cologne, no fancy soap or shampoo. In fact, he smells as if he showered early in the day and allowed his own natural scent to permeate his clothing all day. Derek feels the wolf rumble with lust and want.

"Hi," he replies, as smoothly as he possibly can, and leans back against the door jamb invitingly. The sleep pants he's wearing are low on his hips and Stiles can see a strip of tanned skin and dark hair between them and the tight tank top. He can smell the surge of hormones that go through Stiles's body as he stretches a bit, increasing the gap between his clothing. "Happy birthday."

Stiles smirks. "Well, it _will_ be." He saunters into the loft, brushing past Derek enticingly and entirely on purpose. He hears Derek slide the loft door shut and engage the lock. His mind clicks and his body flushes with excitement. He toes off his shoes. Derek tilts his head amusingly at the gesture.

"Did you have a good dinner with your father?"

"Yeah. I even let him have some of my curly fries. It was kind of an incentive to let me come over tonight."

Derek closes his eyes, feeling his cheeks heat up. "So he knows you're coming over?"

"Well, he knows I'm here - but he doesn't know why. I told him you were going to give me my present." Stiles smiles dirtily. "You _are_ going to give it to me, right?"

Derek blinks. Then, he laughs from his belly, his head thrown back and tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. "That....that was priceless," he says between chuckles. 

Stiles scowls. "Not funny."

"It was a little funny." Derek takes a wrapped box out from the kitchen and sets it on the coffee table. "Here's your present, Stiles."

"Really?" The disappointment is obvious. "I come over here, all keyed up because I'm finally eighteen and you give me a present?"

Derek's left eyebrow quirks up. "Uh, yeah?" When Stiles's bottom lip pops out in a pout, Derek strides forward and gathers him into his arms. "You can open it after," he whispers. Then, he takes Stiles's mouth with his own. 

Stiles whimpers against him, hands coming up to tangle in Derek's hair. He follows Derek's lead as he's walked backward toward the spiral staircase. Their lips don't part until they reach the bottom of the steps and then, it's a quick jolt up them before they meet again. "You think he knows?" Derek asks when they reach the bedroom. 

"Can we _not_ talk about my dad right now?" 

"Yeah, sorry. I just don't want to find myself on the business end of his pistol."

"Don't worry about it. As long as I'm back by curfew with a gift, he won't suspect much." Stiles looks around and realizes that there are dim fairy lights around the ceiling of Derek's room and the scent of chocolate is in the air. He spots a candle's flame from the dresser. His heart melts a little. "Did you-"

Derek ducks his head. "I wanted this to be special."

"It is," Stiles says, using one finger to raise Derek's head again. "SappyWolf strikes again, huh?" When Derek rolls his eyes, Stiles pulls him in for another kiss. "Kiss me."

Derek does, pressing Stiles back until his legs bump into the mattress and he falls haphazardly across it. Derek follows him. They twine arms and legs, hips not still, but moving slowly together. Soon, Derek's fingers are unbuttoning Stiles's shirt and his mouth is nibbling at the pale collarbone that's bared. Stiles gasps at the sensation. He struggles to get his shirt off his wrists, but once they're free, he grips Derek's short hairs at the nape of his neck and holds him where he's mapping a line between moles on his chest. 

"You taste so good," Derek groans. He bends further and takes a dark nipple into his mouth, smiling against it when Stiles's hips buck upwards sharply. "Sensitive?" he asks.

"Yeah, God, yeah." Stiles scrambles to get Derek's shirt off, too. "There needs to be less clothing, though." He shudders to a stop when Derek's warm fingers undo his pants and shove them down his legs and off. "God, yours, too." He hooks fingers in the waistband of Derek's sleep pants and pushes, surprised when he sees that there's nothing else to come off. " _Holy_ mother of..."

Derek chuckles darkly against his neck and grinds down, naked body raking across Stiles's thin red briefs. "These are new, yes?" One finger traces the elastic of the underwear between thigh and groin. 

"Happy birthday to me," Stiles pants. 

Then, they're gone and Stiles can't talk, can't _breathe_ properly. They're finally bare to each other and it's delightful and perfect. Derek moves above him sinuously, like liquid sex, and Stiles can't help but moan out loud. He grasps Derek's hips and stills them. "I'm not going to make it if you keep that up."

"Do you want to take the edge off first or-"

"No," Stiles says quickly. "Please. I want-"

Derek nods and kisses him sweetly. "I understand."

Then, there are thick fingers, slick with something Stiles can't remember seeing Derek grab, and he's keening and grasping his cock with his own hand brutally to stave off the impending orgasm. He's gasping and moving without any regard to what he's saying or doing - it's like his body isn't his own anymore - and all he can see and smell and feel is Derek...Derek....Derek..."Derek!" There are more fingers now, pressing in and sliding over the most sensitive part of him, the one no one else has ever touched. He's being opened and slicked and it's glorious. He squeezes his hand more harshly, whining when the tingle buzz of cumming is upon him. "Please, now....please," he begs. Derek's eyes bleed red and then he's there - he's inside of him, just enough. Just a bit. He's gulping in air, but it's not enough and it's too much and he's being speared in half, but it's wondeful....... Derek's completely seated inside of him, the head of his cock pressing perfectly on his prostate and raking back and forth against it with each thrust. Stiles can't help the wheezing sounds he's making, nor the shaking or the arching of his back. Finally, his hand is ripped from the base of his cock and he's gone - thick, warm splashes of cum flooding his chest and some landing on Derek's stubbled chin. Derek's roaring and his hips are stuttering, his fangs and claws flickering back and forth as he fights for control. His body is tense, but his face - God, his face is just beautiful. Stiles watches him with awe, then pulls him down so they're trembling together. 

When their breaths are more even and Derek's completely back in control, Stiles sighs, deep and long. "That was..."

"Uh-huh," Derek grunts from above him. He goes to move, but Stiles grabs his hips tightly.

"Don't," he whispers. "I want to feel you inside of me for hours after I get home."

Derek growls lowly, but presses closer to Stiles, relaxing into his body once more. "Happy birthday, baby," he says.


	18. Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little sad again, friends.

"Where's Derek?"

Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Stiles look up at Scott, who's standing at the top of the loft's staircase. 

"Really? You don't know?"

Allison gently pushes Isaac's head from her lap and sighs. "He'll be back later."

"He said to get started on this stuff," Boyd says, arms full of books from a shelf. He deposits them on the coffee table. "I'm assuming he meant as soon as possible."

Erica is uncharacteristically quiet as she selects a book and begins studying. Scott wanders down the stairs and crosses his arms. "So, where is he?"

Stiles shakes his head. "Dude, c'mon." His body tenses and he crosses to the giant wall of windows to look out into the dark. He can't look at Scott right now - not with the day...

Isaac bristles with Stiles's anxiety, comes forward, and tucks his face into Scott's neck. "He's in the woods, Scott. Leave him alone."

Scott's forehead creases, but he scent marks Isaac to soothe him. "Okay. So, what are we looking for again?"

~*~

A few hours later, Derek comes into the loft and takes inventory of his pack. Erica is curled up in Boyd's lap, the bigger wolf barely acknowledging Derek's presence as he reads through a book. Isaac is asleep on the couch, one leg over Scott's. Scott is snoring lightly, head lolling back against the cushions. Allison's scent is faint, indicating she's long since gone. Probably for the best. Stiles is in the loft - Derek can smell him - but he isn't with the pack. He takes the steps to his room two at a time and is welcomed by the sleepy warm body of his boyfriend once he enters his room.

Stiles kisses him slowly and tenderly, walking them both back towards the bed. Derek allows him to push his leather jacket off his shoulders, helps him to take off his jeans, slides between the covers that are opened for him. He lets Stiles wrap him up. He lays still and quiet, listening to the human's steady heartbeat. After a few minutes, he takes a breath.

"Thank you," he says. His voice is gruff from disuse and tears. "I-"

A warm hand presses over his heart. "Shhh....just sleep. It's been a long day."

He lets the tension go from his body completely and feels himself slipping from consciousness. It's blissful.

~*~

Derek wakes when he hears Stiles's phone vibrate under the pillow. He doesn't move, but listens as Stiles answers, hissing into the phone. He struggles to keep his breathing regular as he realizes who Stiles is talking to.

"No, but can I stay here tonight? No....it's not like that, dad. No. I promise. Don't you know what day it is? No....the fire....yes. Yes. Okay. Yes, I'll be home in the morning, I swear. Love you, too. I'll let him know. Thanks."

Derek feels the burn of tears coming back again, but he doesn't stop them from falling. He turns, holding onto Stiles as the sobs start. "I....I love you, Mieczyslaw," he gasps.

Stiles stiffens slightly, then squeezes Derek tighter. "I love you, too, Derek."


	19. Something Sad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Went a little different here....all the feels.

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski   
(Teen Wolf)

It always gets to him in the wee hours of the morning when he's just coming off shift and he stops in to check on Stiles. He's always in his bed, snoring lightly and sprawled out like a starfish. He's never once caught him gone, nor Derek inside the house when he comes home. It's a comforting thought to know that he's respected enough for the two of them to obey his requests. It's only just recently that Stiles turned eighteen, after all.

He's not stupid or blind - he noticed the difference between Derek and his son weeks ago, when things had obviously gone from tension to relaxation. A piece of his heart shattered when he thought about Stiles's innocence being lost, but then warmed again when he noticed how much the pair were like he and Claudia. Effortless now. Almost moving as both yin and yang, without words. It's horrifyingly beautiful and John can't seem to stop from smiling to himself when he sees them now.

But the thought comes to him when he's staring through the moonlight at his only child, that this will all come to an end soon. It's not Derek, either. This would have happened at the end of the summer anyway. Stiles will go to college and he will move away. The house will be empty - something it hasn't been since they bought it twenty years ago. And then, it was a happy empty, full of promise and excitement. They'd spent hours in this very room, plotting what it would look like through the years with a tiny Stilinski child inhabiting it. John looks around and smiles, proud of what it's become. Sure, there's stinky socks in the corner and a crusty bowl of unidentifiable food on the desk, but there's so much pure Stiles in this room.... The maps of Beacon Hills, highlighted with markers and sticky notes. The bulletin board of photos of Scott and Lydia and the other members of the pack. There's even a photo of Jackson if John really looks for it. There's the signed Mets baseball under glass on the top shelf by the closet and a faded flannel slung over the desk chair. Books and a chessboard and balls of yarn and crumpled papers and a half-eaten bag of Cheetos..... 

It's only a matter of time before everything will become what it was before - empty, barren, lonely. 

John steps back into the hallway, closing the door silently behind him, and struggles to keep the pain in his throat and chest from manifesting into tears. Stiles is the living embodiment of himself and Claudia, a comfort and distraction from the thoughts of losing her. He knows Stiles won't be gone forever, but it truly breaks his heart to know that he can't keep him for much longer.

He is happy to know, though, that Derek will be around to keep Stiles safe and loved when he can't.


	20. Something Hot

"I cannot believe you're doing this right now."

"It's not a big deal."

"It's a huge deal. Enormous. Massive. Ginormous."

Derek cocks his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. "That's not even a word."

"Is too. Look it up." Stiles whips out his cell phone and presses a button. "Is ginormous a word?" The phone beeps once and he thrusts it in Derek's direction. "See?"

Derek shakes his head and laughs lightly. "Sure. Trust Google."

"I'll have you know that I can find very nearly anything using that particular tool, Derek Hale. If you weren't so technologically constipated..."

Derek hums and turns back to his drawing. "Sometimes, less technology is more." He holds up the sketch. It's a human hand holding a wolf's paw. "There."

Stiles stares at it thoughtfully, then crosses his arms defiantly. "I still don't understand why you've got to do this exact thing. Why can't there just be matching keychains or necklaces?"

"Rings?" Derek challenges with a smile. 

Stiles coughs. "I'm not sure my dad's ready for that kind of commitment," he chokes. 

"Your dad, huh?"

"Yeah, my dad. It's only been 8 months, Derek, and this is not a shotgun wedding type situation. We're not hillbillies and dad's fragile."

Derek nods, hiding a smile. "So, it's just your dad, then, right? No reservations about rings from you?"

"I'm barely eighteen!" Stiles exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "What would everyone at school think?"

"School's almost over."

"Yeah, but then I'll be going to college and I don't want to be the weird married freshman guy in all my classes."

Derek frowns. "We're not getting married, Stiles."

"Well, engaged then. Betrothed. Promised. Mated?"

"Mated, huh?" Derek stands up and gathers Stiles into his arms. "You've read that section of the bestiary then?" 

Stiles flushes. "Maybe."

Derek growls, low in his throat. "Then you know that mating is an entirely different and more serious situation than marriage, right?"

"Yes," Stiles whispers, feeling the thrum of heat go through his body. 

Derek runs his nose along Stiles's neck and licks softly at the spot behind his ear. "This is something that I can have without pushing you into more than you're ready for, okay?"

"Okay."

"And you'll stay here while I finish it?"

Stiles gulps. "I'll try not to pass out."

Derek smiles, then steps back to start up the blow torch. "This design is a little more intricate than my triskelion. Should take a bit longer than Scott's....but I promise not to scream."


	21. Something Ridiculous

Derek blinks. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. It opens and closes a few times, then shuts completely. He blinks again. One hand slaps over his eyes and he groans.

"Stiles?"

"Yes?"

"What the hell is that?"

"I can explain...."

"Later. Now, tell me that I'm not looking at what I think I'm looking at."

"Well, to be fair, you're not looking at anything because you're covering your eyes."

Derek sighs. His hand slides down his face slowly. "That's a llama."

"An _alpaca._ "

"In my loft."

"Yes."

"How?"

"Surprisingly, she really took to the elevator. I thought for sure she'd spook with the creaking and shaking, but..."

"She?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Take a gander, Derek. _You_ see any dangly bits? Cuz I'm not seeing anyth-"

"Nope. _No._ Huh-uh. Not even thinking about-"

The alpaca bleets, moving away from Derek. Her eyes follow his every move and Derek can sense her anxiety ratcheting up. He envisions calm rivers and gentle breezes through the forest trees as he fights to keep himself and the alpaca calm.

"But why?"

"So, Deaton was telling Scott and I about this location spell and it needed some ingredients that were harder to find. So, we ventured out to the east side of town and-"

Derek growls. The alpaca takes two jittery steps backwards, eyes widening. Derek breathes through his nose with effort. 

"Anyway," Stiles continues, "We found this crazy dude who had most of what we needed and this pretty little girl was just hanging out in the backyard. So, I'm petting her and the guy asks me if she's mine. I looked at him all crazy and he doesn't even let me answer - just hands me a rope for her neck and says 'she is now.'" 

Stiles strokes a hand down the alpaca's neck soothingly. 

"So....you took an alpaca because someone gave it to you?"

" _She_ , Derek. She." Stiles glares at Derek. "And yes. She's mine now."

"And where are you going to keep her? How will you feed her? Does your dad know?"

"Ughhh yes. That's why we're here. Dad said I couldn't keep her at our house - there's no room."

"She can't stay _here_!"

"Then help me find a home for her."

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. "Fine. But it needs to be soon. She stinks."

Stiles scoffs, placing a hand in each of the alpaca's ears gently. "Rude!" He whispers to her, "Don't listen to GrumpyWolf, Dandelion. He's got a sensitive nose."

"Dandelion?"

"Her fur looks like dandelion fluff."

Derek sighs again, long and low. "It's a good thing I love you."


	22. The First "I love you..."

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski  
(Teen Wolf)

Derek looks over at Stiles, curled up in their favorite armchair (yes, _theirs_ ) and sleeping so soundly he's snoring. He can't help but smile. 

"Awww," Erica coos from Boyd's lap. Her voice is saccharine sweet and Derek cringes. "He _is_ really adorable, isn't he?" Boyd muffles his laugh of sarcasm in her back. Erica swats at him. 

Derek grunts gloomily. "Bathroom," he says, then heads that direction. Once inside, he wills his cheeks to stop burning, but he listens to his pack anyway. 

"Look at him from Derek's point of view, though," he hears Erica say. "Just look." 

Boyd sighs and looks then shakes his head. "Whatever you say."

"I can see it," Isaac adds. When Scott makes a disgruntled noise, he whines faintly. "What? I'm just saying - _Derek_ thinks he's adorable. It doesn't mean-"

"He knows, he's just being a big dork," Allison placates. Derek imagines that she's pulling Isaac's head to her neck in comfort. He hears Scott grumble something at both of them and he sighs. He pushes open the bathroom door and walks back into the living room.

"We aren't talking about this anymore."

"We aren't talking about what?" 

Stiles is sitting up now, rubbing at his eyes sleepily and yawning. He blinks at the others in confusion. His hair is sticking up easily, looking absolutely delectable. Derek's mouth waters as he thinks about kissing him and tugging that hair....

Erica clears her throat, but Derek shoots her a glare that shuts her up. "Nothing. It's time for everyone to get going. I'll drive you home, Stiles."

"It's curfew?"

Erica squeals a little. Boyd rolls his eyes. Derek pushes Stiles put of the chair and out the door, gathering shoes and hoodie under one arm as he goes. 

"You know," Stiles says, sleepy sounding and leaning against Derek in the elevator, "I love you."

Derek's back goes ramrod straight and he looks down at Stiles with wide eyes. 

"I mean..."

"I didn't think-"

"No, I mean, it's not been very long since we started this thing and-

"No, I-"

"If you don't feel the same that's-"

"Stiles," Derek says, one finger against Stiles's lips, "I love you, too."

Stiles smiles up at him and Derek's sure. He completely and totally in love with him.


	23. Jealousy/Possesiveness

"Are you _kidding_ me?"

Stiles's high pitched voice pierces Isaac's ears and the young wolf cowers in the corner. He whines softly. Scott moves forward from beside Deaton and kneels down beside his boyfriend. He glowers at Stiles.

"Dude..."

"Sorry.....but....Well, obviously this plan can't work!"

"Why not?"

"Yeah," Lydia says, swinging her dangling feet from where she's perched on the veterinarian's exam table. "Why can't it work? It's kind of brilliant, actually."

Allison squints at the map again, pointing at a spot near the bottom. "Are you talking about _this_? I mean, I know it's going to be tricky for us to lure Kate into this exact spot, but I'm sure Derek can-"

"That!" Stiles exclaims, hands thrown up in the air. "That's what won't work." 

"What? Derek?" Scott looks puzzled from the floor. "He'll be great."

"He's never going to go for this, you know."

"Why not?"

The group looks up at the sound of the alpha in the doorway. Stiles crosses his arms and juts his chin up just so. "Because this is _Kate_."

Derek rolls his eyes. "And?"

"And you hate Kate."

"Which kind of makes him perfect for this job," Lydia points out. She gazes down at her nails. "He's totally up for revenge on her scrawny wereleopard ass."

Derek snorts. Stiles pouts. Allison chews at her bottom lip thoughtfully a moment, then turns to Scott and Isaac. 

"Do you think it might not work because she knows Derek hates her?"

"Yes!" Stiles brightens considerably. "See? It won't work because she's definitely smart enough to know Derek despises her." 

Derek shakes his head. "Actually, last time I saw her, she didn't seem to care about my attitude toward her. In fact, she's probably thinking all that pent up aggression will lead to some hate sex...."

Stiles growls. "Gross."

Lydia laughs sharply. "Oh my God....are you jealous?"

"No."

"Dude!" Scott says. 

Stiles can hear the smile in his voice. He turns away and focuses on a jar of cotton balls on the nearby shelf. He definitely does not melt into Derek when he's enveloped by the werewolf's arms moments later.

"Jealous? Hmmmmm...." Derek hums at the spot behind Stiles's ear they both like. "I may need to remind you exactly who you belong to...."

"DUDES!" 

Derek doesn't move, but Stiles jerks his head to look at Scott. "I'm not jealous." He shudders as Derek scent marks his neck with his forehead. "I just don't like this plan."

"You're _mine,_ " Derek huffs. "And....that bitch is going down for making you forget that."

Stiles swallows thickly. "Oooookay.....this plan might work...."


	24. Insecurities

Sometimes Derek just watches Stiles. He sees so much vibrancy in him, in everything he does....

The way he throws his head back when he laughs at something really funny. The way his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth when he's concentrating on something. The way his left leg jiggles almost incessantly during movies. The way he shudders and gasps when he's in the middle of cumming. 

Derek shifts in his spot on Stiles's bed, willing away those thoughts. The sheriff is downstairs in the living room and the bedroom door is to be left open when Derek and Stiles are inside alone. He wipes a hand down his face roughly. Then, he looks back at Stiles, feeling his heart warm.

Right now, Stiles is flipping through pages of the bestiary and making almost frantic notes on a notebook beside him. He chews at the end of the pen for a moment, then scribbles something else on the page.

It's all so full of life, of _hope_...

"Whatcha thinkin' about BroodyWolf?"

Derek shakes his head to clear it, noticing that Stiles has turned in his desk chair and is facing him with amusement. "Nothing."

"Liar." Stiles takes Derek's hand in his and he gazes up into his eyes. "I'm seriously starting to think you're going to magically conjure an actual dark rain cloud above your head with all that grouchy pouting." He traces over Derek's bottom lip with one finger. "You okay?"

"Fine."

"Doesn't _sound_ fine." Stiles climbs in Derek's lap, forgetting about his work and the open door completely. He kisses him sweetly on the mouth. "You don't _look_ fine. You look grumpy. Or sad."

Derek sighs, looking away. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing."

"Dude," Stiles says, gently guiding Derek's face back. "Seriously. What's up?"

"I'm not sure..."

"Not sure of what?"

"How can you stand to be around me?"

Stiles sputters and laughs, then sobers when he realizes that Derek's not joking - he's frowning. "Oh, Der," he says gently. 

"No. It's just....I'm not good for you."

"Not _good_ for me? What?" Stiles takes Derek's face in both of his hands and presses their foreheads together. "Listen to me, SourWolf. You are the very _best_ thing that's happened to me."

"But before you met me, you never got hurt or-"

"I got plenty hurt on my own, believe me. I'm not exactly the poster child for grace."

"Not the same. We're talking life and death here."

"But you're the reason I'm still alive, Derek. As much as I like to think that I'm completely badass and can take care of myself without you, I know that you play a very important part in keeping me alive. So don't you _dare_ -"

"You could be happy with someone else. A girl maybe..."

"I haven't been interested in girls in a very long time, Derek."

"But you could have kids. A future. You could travel. I can't seem to ever leave this damn place."

"I could travel with you," Stiles whispers. "Dad would love it if Beacon Hills was my home base forever, actually. And kids aren't the end-all of everything, you know. We could have some if we wanted. There're options." He kisses Derek's nose. "Why the sudden deep thoughts?"

"You're just so....I don't deserve you."

Stiles laughs lightly. "Buddy, you are talking about the wrong side of this conversation."

"I'm not-"

"You _are_. Derek, you're strong and beautiful and smart and sexy and a great alpha to your pack. You've made it through so many things in your life. You're so brave."

Derek listens and his eyes tear up as he realizes that Stiles's heart never once skipped a beat. He takes Stiles's mouth in a hungry kiss, letting the tears fall down his cheeks. "I love you," he whispers hoarsely as their lips part. 

"I love you, too." Stiles kisses him again, then offers his neck to be scented. "Now, no more brooding. I'm going to start to think you're Angel."


	25. Teasing Each Other

Derek frowns across the table at Stiles, who's looking back at him with a smirk. Below the table, Stiles's socked foot is stroking lightly against Derek's ankle, moving slowly upwards. Stiles turns back to his father and takes a bite of mashed potatoes, nodding at whatever John was talking about. Derek sighs. 

"Everything alright," John asks him, one eyebrow quirked up in concern. "You're looking a little flushed."

"Fine," Derek croaks out. He grabs for his water glass as Stiles's foot slides up his thigh. "Just got a piece of chicken stuck in my windpipe." 

"Gotta be careful with that. Take it slow, you know?" John says. He takes a forkful of coleslaw and chews slowly for show. "See?"

Derek takes a sip of his water and promptly chokes as Stiles grazes his crotch with one pointed toe. John jumps from his chair, moving to pound on Derek's back. 

"I gotcha," the sheriff says. "You think you need the Heimlich?" 

"No!" Derek croaks. His eyes water and his throat burns. Other parts of his anatomy are taking interest in the proceedings it seems, though. "I've got it."

"Careful, Derek," Stiles tells him. Doe-eyed, he's the picture of innocence. It does nothing to help Derek's little problem below the table. 

"I think I need to get some air." Derek pushes away from the table and turns away from John so he can't notice the bulge in his jeans. He makes his way to the front door and escapes onto the porch. He takes a great lungful of air. He counts to twenty and then he's joined by his boyfriend. "That's not funny," he growls, voice low.

Stiles laughs. "I think it's hilarious." He presses a kiss to Derek's cheek, then he looks down Derek's body. "It's also hot as the sun." 

"Your dad-"

"He honestly thinks you're choking to death out here. It's a near miss for him calling Melissa and asking for a house call or an ambulance."

"That's ridiculous."

Stiles shrugs, smirking. "Want me to help with that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"We need to finish dinner."

Stiles moves his head to the side. "A little taste first?" 

Derek moans lightly, then gives in and licks a stripe up Stiles's neck. "You're evil."

"I know." 

Stiles's hips are grinding into his when the door opens. They split apart lickety-split. John frowns. 

"Feeling better I take it?"

Derek blushes. "Yes, sir."

John clears his throat. "Come back in and finish dinner. Then, I'll leave you alone." He eyes Stiles. "You, son, are a deviant." He disappears into the house, but leaves the door open.

Derek hides his face in his hands and Stiles claps him on the back. "Don't worry, SexyWolf...I think that's an invitation to finish what we started."

"It was NOT," comes from inside the house. "Get in here."

Stiles laughs, but Derek whimpers in both frustration and embarrassment.


	26. Public Displays of Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went a little different on this one.

"Stiles!"

"What?"

"Get down here. Now."

"Okay, okay! Jeez, can't a guy get his homework-oh, baby Jesus...what is _that?_ " Stiles slides to a stop just outside the front door. 

"You tell me."

Stiles stares down at the pile on the front porch. "Animals?" He winces when his father clears his throat. " _Dead_ animals?"

"I can see that," John says, arms crossed and forehead crinkled in confusion. "Why are they on my porch?"

"Uh...."

"Is this some sort of weird display of affection in werewolf terms? Because if so..."

Distantly, Stiles hears a howl. He sees the nearly full moon off to one side, but he tries not to draw attention to it. His dad, however, looks up at it anyway, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. He inwardly groans.

"I'll get rid of them pronto, Dad. Sorry."

John shakes his head but turns to go back into the house. "I will never understand werewolves," he mutters. 

Stiles sighs long and deep. Then, he takes out his phone and presses the second number on his speed dial. "This is not cool," he says when Scott answers.

Scott sounds winded, voice gruff and he's out of breath. "What?"

"I got a present today. On the porch."

"And?"

"It's a giant pyramid of dead raccoons, field mice, and possums, Scott."

"Gross." Scott's voice becomes muffled and Stiles realizes he's relaying information to either Allison or Isaac. When he comes back onto the line, he sounds amused. "So, Derek brought you dinner, huh?"

"Not. Funny." Stiles runs a hand through his hair. "Where am I supposed to put all these damn things anyway, huh? I'm not about to dig a million holes in the backyard."

"Burn 'em like Sam and Dean," Scott offers. 

Stiles gags. "Dude. The smell alone would be worse than looking at this bloody mess on the porch."

"You asked. I answered." Scott's voice is soft and Allison giggles in the background. 

"Is this some sort of creepy wolf thing?"

"Well, maybe you should read the rest of the mating ritual stuff from the bestiary," Isaac yells. "Then come back and let us know."

Scott grumbles something Stiles can't make out, then huffs into the phone. "We're on a run, Stiles."

"With _Allison?_ Dang, she's in more shape than I-"

Stiles frowns as the phone disconnects. The buzzing of flies on the pile of carcasses sends irritation down his spine. "Derek Hale!" he screams into the night air, "if you can hear me, you'd better figure out how to get rid of this." He bites his lip, then texts, " _Love you, weirdo. Next time you send a gift, send chocolate._ "

The next day, Stiles gets a gift basket of chocolate delivered to home room.


	27. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MATURE RATING FOR THIS CHAPTER.

Derek pants and squeezes his eyes shut so he can't see just how sexy Stiles is while he's doing _that_. He's afraid that if he looks, it will all be over - and he's so not ready for this to end. Not even close. 

"Are you okay?" Stiles asks, out of breath. 

"Yeah." Derek writhes beneath Stiles. His own cock is heavy, dripping across his stomach, but his focus is on Stiles's, which is sitting just perfectly on his prostate and holding still. The stretch and burn make the wolf inside whimper in delicious ecstasy. "You can move now."

Stiles laughs hollowly, head tipping forward and resting on Derek's shoulder. "I really can't, Der. Believe me....if I move right now? This is going to be one short ride." Even so, he inches forward even further - as if Derek thought it could even be possible - and Derek can feel him shudder above him. 

"God, baby. You feel amazing."

"You have no idea-"

Derek's control snaps and before he knows it, he's hovering above Stiles, sitting down completely on his lover's cock, and thrusting his chest back to feel the burn even more. Stiles wheezes and grips Derek's hips. "Shit! Warn a guy next time!"

"Next time?" Derek quirks an eyebrow upwards, but then he's shaking with pleasure as Stiles thrusts in and up - deep and simply wonderful. "Yeah, baby - next time."

"Next time, I'll pound you straight into the mattress, Der. And you'll love it. Won't you?"

"Yeah...."

In the end, it's not the smoothest or longest bout of lovemaking they've shared, but, to Derek, it's the most passionate. He's allowing someone inside him for the first time and it's perfect. It's mere moments before he's sitting straight up on Stiles again, head tipped back and howling. His claws shred the sheets below them. He feels his fangs descend, the prickling that indicates that his ears are becoming pointier. He fights it only a second before Stiles is moaning louder. He looks down and notices that his lover is getting excited by his shift. He lets go - change completing around the same time as his own cock spurts thick ropes of cum across Stiles's chest. He nearly collapses against Stiles, breaths coming fast and heart pounding. Beneath him, Stiles's heart is almost matching his in beats. 

"You're the only one," Derek whispers against the shell of Stiles's ear. He smiles as he feels Stiles's hips lock up and then warmth between his thighs. "So beautiful, baby. Just for me."

"Mine," Stiles pants. He pulls Derek down to him, kissing him sleepily, but thoroughly. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


	28. Being Old Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, only two more days, friends. If you liked these tickets and have some ideas/prompts you'd like me to write, leave them in the comments. Or, find me on tumblr: i-want-a-dean-sam-castiel-pbj

Derek smiles as the car pulls into the long driveway, gravel crunching under the tires. He stands, waves. "They're here," he calls over his shoulder. His voice echoes off the walls of the house through the open screen door. Stiles comes padding down the hall from the kitchen and wipes his hands on his uniform pants. He steps into his house slippers by the door, then joins Derek on the porch. 

"I can't find the tea towel."

"Did you check under the mixing bowl?"

"No."

"When you go back in, check there."

"How do you even know that?"

"Good guess," Derek smiles. "Also, this is the third time you've lost it today and it's been under the mixing bowl every time."

Stiles scowls playfully at him. "Yeah, yeah. How about _you_ cook for 20 people and see if you don't lose the towel." He takes a breath as he looks over at the shiny car in the driveway. "Think they brought her with them?"

"Of course they did," Derek assures him. "Plus, I can hear her heartbeat." He cranes his neck. "Must be in the back seat because I can't see her yet."

Stiles grins fondly at his mate. "You're such a softie for that pup." He pulls Derek into his arms and presses a kiss to his stubbly cheek. "I love it."

Derek laughs. "She's pretty lovable."

The car doors open and a young couple gets out. The woman waves at Stiles and Derek enthusiastically, while the man busies himself with opening the back door. Once open, a tawny wolf pup bounds out into the fresh air and streaks around the car in circles. The man laughs. 

"Wanna go for a run, dad?" the woman asks, eyes shining. "She's been waiting for this for months."

"Of course!" Derek turns to Stiles. "I'll be right back. You hear me coming, open the door." He turns and goes back into the house, excitement evident. 

Stiles rolls his eyes. "How was the drive?"

"Not bad," the young man says as he digs a suitcase out of the trunk. "Of course, it might have been more tolerable if Laurie had shifted before we left. She ended up changing when I was pulling onto the interstate. Gave a few drivers a bit of a startle."

"Just like her grandpa, huh?" 

"Papa Stiles, more like," the woman laughed.

Stiles hears the click of Derek's claws on hardwood floor, so he opens the door wide. The dark wolf springs forward and falls into step beside Laurie on the lawn, his face near glowing with happiness. 

"You two stay close by! Dinner's in 20 minutes and I'm still on call, you know!"

"Ever gonna retire, old man?" 

"Nah. Got a lot of years left in me, Clara." Stiles spreads his arms for his daughter and welcomes her warm embrace. "Not gonna stop until I'm at _least_ as old as great grandpa John."

Clara giggles, tossing her auburn hair behind her. It reminded him of her birth mother, but her eyes were all Derek. "Well, I guess Beacon Hills still needs you and dad then, huh?"

"Yep. Pack'll be here soon. Let's go in and talk about the newest development," Stiles says, pointing down at her growing stomach. "I thought I told Brent to keep his paws to himself."

~*~

"That is so not how it's gonna be."

Derek frowns at Stiles, whose head is in his lap. "What's wrong with that?"

"Lydia? Lydia is our future kid's mom? Our kid is part wolf part banshee? Why don't we get a random surrogate? And why did _your_ sperm win out? Tell me we have another future kid that looks like me."

Derek blushes. "It's just a thought. It's fictional."

Stiles scoffs, but pulls Derek down for a kiss. "I know. I love it. Except I'm not cooking for 20 people while you stand on the porch, LazyWolf."


	29. Spoiling Each Other

"Out," Stiles demands, pulling at Scott's shirt to encourage him off the sofa. 

"Hey, man," Scott says, frowning. "What's the big deal?"

"No pack meeting tonight. Change of plans. Get out."

Isaac pops out from the kitchen, holding a bag of chips. "Uh....so what are we supposed to do then?"

"Take the movie to Scott's. Run around in the woods. Go have sex behind the dumpster of 13th Street - I don't care! Just go. Now."

Allison laughs. "Is this a-"

"No, it's not a sex thing. Just please?" Stiles checks his phone again. "He'll be here in five minutes."

"Fine. Tomorrow?"

"I will have Derek call you tomorrow."

Once the loft is empty, Stiles sighs harshly through his nose and sets to work tugging a large folding table from the closet. He dims the lights, flips on some low music, and starts burning Derek's favorite incense. Then, he opens the table and covers it with a burgandy sheet. 

"What are you doing?" 

Stiles jumps at the sound of Derek's voice behind him. "You scared the crap out of me," he wheezes, clutching his chest.

Derek just raises an eyebrow at the setup behind Stiles. 

"Oh...uh....take off your shirt and lay down."

"Forward," Derek teases. He complies, though, laying down shirtless on the table. His face drops into a hole in the top. "Where did you even find this?"

"Melissa let me borrow it."

"I'm not even going to ask why she let you do that."

"Good. Now, let me take care of you."

Stiles's hands are strong and his long fingers press deliciously into muscles that are surprisingly tender. They slide along smoothly and slowly on lightly scented oil that makes Derek's mouth water. "Is that vanilla?"

"Almond."

Derek hums. "S'good."

"I remembered that you said you liked the smell of spritz cookies at Christmas....so I assumed almond would be good."

Derek groans in response. He starts to drift towards sleep, but rouses a bit when Stiles's lips begin to press against the base of his neck. He turns and capture his lips with his own.

"This wasn't the plan," Stiles pants, biting lightly at Derek's jaw. "Wasn't supposed to be a sex thing. Supposed to be a spoil-Derek-silly thing."

"Doing a good job of that, baby," Derek assures him. He pulls Stiles down on top of him fully.

They both laugh when, a few minutes later, the table collapses beneath them. 

"Guess I'm gonna have to explain this to Melissa," Stiles says. 

"But leave out the good parts...."

"Yep."


	30. Falling in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a wild ride, Sterek shippers! My first rendezvous into the fandom as a writer has been fun. Can't wait to try my hand at longer stories for these characters. ;)

Derek thinks back over the last few years and honestly can't pinpoint when it happened: when he fell in love with Stiles Stilinski. He's standing at the end of a short aisle, waiting for his groom to meet him in front of their family and friends, and so he knows it happened. It's just a matter of when....

Maybe, he thinks, it's the sum of many moments and not a single instance. That makes sense. 

~*~

The kiss they shared this morning as they got ready to travel to the church together. Breakfast with John, turning away when Stiles teared up accepting cufflinks custom made from Claudia's wedding ring. Holding him close and breathing him in last night when he slept.

A year ago, shocking him at his college graduation by getting down on one knee as he came off the stage. Squeezing him as he accepted loudly and dramatically, as only Stiles could. Smiling as he immediately called Scott to gush about the news.

Driving hours across the country to show up at his apartment's door, wet from the rain and heart hurting from their latest fight. Growling as his roommate slid past him to leave them alone. Claiming Stiles on the loving room rug, fangs deep in the side of his neck and cock deep inside of him. Whispering apologies and declarations of love in his ear as he carried them to bed.

Sitting for hours with John in a squad car and talking through the future plans. Squirming as the questions turned deeper and more serious. Knowing with conviction that he wasn't falling in love with only Stiles, but also his father, who supports them and puts up with drama and over the top romantic gestures. Sneaking John a hamburger from the diner down the road on occasion. Talking into the wee hours with him about Claudia and Laura and Tania and all those lost.

The pack making a wall around Stiles when a demon was hell bent on taking him. Scott basically throwing himself onto its claws so Derek could get there first, to rip the demon limb from limb himself. Watching in awe as his boyfriend hacked at the decimated body with a nearby axe. Kissing him with desperation before tending to the pack's injuries.

Prom.

Tattoos.

Christmas.

Their first kiss.

Their first date.

Cuddling on the couch watching You Tube.

Holding hands in the hallway of the loft.

Saving him from the Nogitsune.

Curly fries.

Meeting in the woods.

~*~

"Derek," John's voice snaps him from his thoughts. He smiles at his soon-to-be father in law. 

"Yes?"

"Look."

Derek looks down the aisle and his breath catches in his throat. Stiles is there, blushing and gorgeous in his suit, walking slowly in his direction. He has to poke himself sharply in the thigh with an extended claw to activate his breathing again. He gains his compsure by the time Stiles reaches him, but it's a near thing.

"Hi," Stiles whispers to him, amber eyes shining. 

"Hi."

"Missed you."

Derek ducks his head to hide his laugh, but he can't respond because the ceremony has begun. It's not until their vows that he can bring himself to look at Stiles again, afraid he'll lose his breath once more.

"Sourwolf," Stiles starts, smirking, "I was thinking this morning about when I fell for you." He looked over his shoulder at Scott, who nods encouragingly. "And I realized that it probably wasn't one moment. But this all started when I dragged my best friend into the woods to see a dead body and met you. Even then I knew you were something special. I'm so glad I found you."

Derek doesn't think, just lets his instincts kick in. He nuzzles into Stiles's neck and grins. "Me, too." 

~END~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 30 day otp challenge is over but feel free to leave a prompt in the comments. I will whip some more up of these two if you'd like.


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